University of Virginia Library

ACT III.

Scene a Hall of the Palace, Representing the Court of Pan.
After the Song of Fame is over, Pan rises (while the Musick plays) in a Wood, being several rows of Trees illuminated. All the Actors on the Stage, A Warlike Tune.
While the Musick is performing, Arcadius seems to talk very earnestly with Parmenio and Nicias.
Eud.
Observe, Adrastus, how Arcadius stands
Unmov'd by Harmony, or Artful shew:
Ev'n I who trembling on the brink of fate,
Behold the horrid Precipice, am charm'd.
What cares are his superiour then to mine?

Par.
The Emp'ror, weary'd with the days fatigue,
Wills, that all leave him but the Prince of Thrace.

Ex. Om. but Arc. Ad. Par. and Nic.
Arc.
That I have cause to think I am betray'd,
This wealth, with which our own can scarce compare
These Tow'rs, these rich Alcoves, these Gilded Roofs,
And all this bright magnificence declare.
Is this the dwelling of a private Swain?
This the retreat of discontent and love?
The Mines of Asia, and the Ethiop Sands,
Scarce in the course of ten abundant years,
Produce more Treasures than my Eyes behold.
I see you know the Master of this place,
Already grown his confident and friend.
You have your secrets and your private talk,
While I with Fairy Dance and Song amus'd,
Play with my danger, as the Pilot steers
Tow'rds the sweet Voice which tempts him to the Rock.

Adr.
Yourself, my Lord, discover'd first his worth,
You, who so soon advanc'd him to a Throne,
Might well expect th'admiring world would gaze
With more than common pleasure on the man,
Whom, from profoundest solitude, you chose
To wear a Scepter, and to sit with Kings.

Arc.
This solitude so gloriously adorn'd,
These Riches hidden in a Diamond Cave,
Might tempt a Hermits Faith, and make him view
The Empire of the world with lustful Eyes,
Nor dropt they like yon gay Machines from Heav'n,
Nor is it painted Wealth, but Massy Gold.
Have you not heard him boast his high descent.
What Princess, careless of her Nuptial Vow,
Has bred this Issue of polluted Love,
To nourish Treason here, and prove at last
Her injur'd Monarch's ruin, and his shame?

Adr.
This of a Prince? and underneath his Roof?

Arc.
You're toucht, Sir, and would tell me this is base
Ingrate, Inhospitable, and unjust,
Your Eyes convict you, and your glowing Cheeks
Burn with projected Mischiefs.
But Princes must not trifle with their Fate,
From whence this Rural prodigy? What Realm
Cou'd spare the Treasure that supports this Cost?

Adr.
He told you whence himself,
From this blest Land where Peace and Safety dwell,
Where no projected mischiefs e're were form'd.
No Princess, careless of her Nuptial Vow,
E're thought to wrong her Monarch, or prophane
This Vale of innocence with lawless love.

Arc.
The secret which you dare not trust with me,
Is brooding mischiefs of the blackest form.
Prince! you're my Pris'ner till the truth is known.

Adr.
Is this the safety of an Emp'rors Faith?
But that the Crown which glitters on your brow
Commands submission, and forbids my arm
The vengeance to a Soveraigns honour due,
These chains shou'd never else affront your name,
Myself wou'd else be Guardian of your Oath,
And force you to be just.

Arc.
Guards! till you hear from us observe the Prince;
To all but those whom we allow, defend
Admittance near him, 'tis our lifes concern.
Ex. Nic. with Adr.
Next him, by whom I reign, I know no pow'r
Superiour to my own. No Judge, who durst
Declare against my pleasure that is wrong,
Which the Imperial word pronounces right.
I for this deed can answer to my self,
The world must then be satisfy'd.

Par.
'Tis evident, the Treason's grown mature.
What Interest has Adrastus in this man?
This rising Comet, whose portentous look
To Nations threatens ruin.
Is this the Mansion of a Village, Lord?
The Roman Chiefs, in their triumphal pride,
Were never more illustrious in their sports,
Than those ev'n now with wonder I behold.
The Prince, by nature turbulent and proud,
Brooks not the narrow limits of his Thrace;
With envy he beheld Byzantium's wealth,
When for his Brother, with opprobrious terms,
He wou'd have forc'd your Daughter from your arms.

Arc.
Oh! thou hast rous'd a fury in my breast,
Which stings me worse than Scorpions fiery tongues,
Why didst thou name my Daughter? she was once.
The blessing of my Youth,
The glory of my Court,
The fairest product of Pulcheria's Love:
But now a wanderer in some barren Clime,
Driv'n by my cruelty to spend her Spring,
With a vile ravisher in want and pain.

Par.
'Tis time, my Lord, to think of this no more,
What we can't help we must with patience bear,
And when you're thus by threatning dangers prest,
Look forwards to prevent the future ills.

Arc.
What wou'd'st thou that we do? I yet can see:
No ills, but such as from suspicion rise.
Perhaps as Idle as Adrastus threats.

Par.
In Rome, 'twas whisper'd that Byzantium's Streets
With Thracian Captains swarm'd, and Thracian arms,
Your self has heard the Rumours which have spread.
Of Armies on the Borders to revenge
An injur'd Brother, true—the rumours dy'd,
But still the Injury, as they tell you, lives.

Arc.
Again, thy just reproaches rack my Soul;
To what wou'd'st thou perswade me?

Par.
To be safe.
The business of my days, my nightly care
Is to preserve you from the strokes,
Of such as dare not meet you in the Field.

Arc.
What plots hast thou discover'd?

Par.
None, my Lord?
Howe'er, I thought it strange to see the Prince
Abandon Thrace, and hear Amintor's name
So often chanted in your ears with praise:
Nor were his Friends contented till their pray'rs
Extorted from your bounty what 'tis plain,
They meant to take without your gift, a Crown.
Why, when this Journey was at first propos'd,
Were there such reasons giv'n you to adjourn
The visit, or disswade you from't? And when
He saw you wou'd not listen to him. Why
Must he be foremost, was he not afraid,
His friends might be surpriz'd, or unprepar'd.
It may be only Fancy, but if e're
My Loyalty foresaw a black design,
And was of service to your Empire, now
This very hour, the wit of Hell's at work,
And you're the destin'd Victim.

Arc.
Heav'n! he shakes
With honest fears, do with me what thou wilt,
We'll to the City, arm the Roman bands,
And storm the Palace in the face of noon.

Adr.
No, 'tis not worth your care, command your Guard:
To seize on every Post which may oppose
Assistance from the Province. This at first
They must with utmost secrecy perform;
While I by promis'd Tortures and Rewards,
Discover from Amintor's Slaves, how long
Their Lord has known the Prince of Thrace, and whence
Their Master, and this Mass of Riches came.

Arc.
Be careful of my name, nor let the world
Re-enter Nic.
Report my Host insulted by his Guest,
On groundless Tales, and visionary Fears.
I'll give directions to my Guards: The rest
Is left to thee. Be wise.

Ex. Alc.
Par.
Be so your self, fond Emp'ror!
Was not your Reason clouded by your fears,
The Tyrant passion of your Soul, you soon
Wou'd see thro all my airy Plots; and Truth
And Innocence wou'd shine like perfect day.
Well, Nicias! thou, I know art pleas'd to see
The hour, for which we oft have wisht to find.
The Lord of Greece from Foreign Counsels free,
Consents to hear his Friends, and own their Love:
How suits Confinement with Adrastus, say?
Does he not rage, and like a Forrest Boar
Entangled in the Snare, by raging close
The toil the faster on him.

Nic.
Yes!
A while; his wild resentment threaten'd VVar,
And with injurious words, denounc'd to Greece
Eternal Enmity: But most to you.
The Emp'ror and the Empire's ruin. This
He oft repeated in outrageous Phrase,
And darted from his Eyes avengeful fires.

Par.
I laugh to hear him talk of War in Chains.
His Fury's impotent, his Sword is mine,
He lives, but till my Love has full revenge,
And reacht Phylante's Image in his heart.
Oh! thou remembrest when the cruel Maid,
Deaf to my sighs, and heedless of my tears,
Profusely on him lavisht guilty smiles,
And spurn'd me from her feet with utmost scorn.
The curst remembrance of that shameful hour,
Is fatal to my Foe—He dies.
Nor can Arcadius save him, 'tis too late;
Tho as he's won't, he shou'd this minute change,
His breach of Treaty's ne're to be compos'd,
But to be safe, the Prince of Thrace must dye,

Nic.
Or Greece must perish by intestine broils,
Brothers by Brothers fall, and Friends by Freinds,
Which to prevent—

Par.
Ay Nicias, that's my task.
To hinder this the Thracian Prince must bleed,
The Emp'ror seize his State.

Nic.
For what?

Par.
That's left
To me, and if my Vengeance proves so weak,
It can't find reasons for his death, 'tis just
My wrongs unpunisht should be still my shame.
I know thee, faithful Nicias, that with thee
My most important secrets are secure.
Amintor, or whatever else he's stil'd,
When his Friends safety calls, perhaps may arm
The Province h'as obtain'd, but what he meant
Of service to the Prince shall prove his doom.
The Roman Guards at several Posts are plac'd,
To quell the Village Tumults in their rise.
Thy charge, of highest moment, is within:
Let none without the Imperial Signet see
Adrastus, 'twill enrage him yet the more,
And that the more encrease the Emp'rors fears,
On which my hopes depend.

Enter Eud. and Alca.
Nic.
My Lord, our Host.

Par.
Retire, expect anon
Instructions further from me.
My business now is not with him, but yet
Tis criminal to love the man I hate.

Ex. Par. & Nic.
Eud.
Confin'd, without my knowledge, in my house,
Against the faith of Nations and of Leagues;
From thee who never didst deceive me. This
Wou'd scarce be credible, but that the looks
Of him, who there avoided us, declare
The guilt of wicked Counsels, and confirm
Enter Aurelia.
Thy just report, and make our danger sure.
Oh my Aurelia!

Aur.
Tell me why that sigh?
Is it for me thy nature's on the rack?
For me, that these Convulsions shake thy Soul.
Oh let me share the anguish of thy mind
Say—We must dye—Alas! I know we must,
And in my Crime rejoyce, my Love of thee.
Fate in thy Brother has begun her spoils,
Our Lot I know is next.

Eud.
Oh cease thy tears.
And if 'tis in thy heart to love me less,
In pity to us both attempt it now:
For while I see thee thus endearing kind,
I grow a Coward, and cou'd wish to live.
Think of the Glories thou hast left, the worlds
That would have kneel'd before thee but for me.
Think of the heats that oft have parcht thy limbs,
The tedious nights which we have liv'd in Snow,
The Tempests which have tost thee on the Main,
The hateful Exile thou hast since endur'd,
The terrours that assault thee. Think on this,
And then behold me as the cause of all.

Aur.
Oh! I for ever cou'd behold thee thus.
For ever feast my longing eyes on thine.
Thee, the last object that shall bless their Rayes,
And give my parting Soul a taste of heav'n;
For heav'n, they tell us, is but perfect Love,
And mine's perfection when I look on thee.

Eud.
Why, when my care presag'd this dreadful hour
Why did my Brother bring us hopes of peace,
Or that thy Father would forgive our flight,
When thou the darling of his age were't found?
Oh thou art found to him, but lost to me.
The fatal secret's known, my Friend in Chains,
This, this, Aurelia, racks me worse than Wheels:
I've liv'd a Slave too long, a worthless Slave,
I've seen my Brother injur'd to my face,
And Patient of his bonds expect my own.
Wou'd I in Thrace have suffer'd this from Kings?
My house by Foreign pow'rs prophan'd.
Has he then mockt me with a Soveraigns name,
The word that said it was the voice of Heav'n
Pronounc'd by him, and here 'tis mine to Reign?
Oh, had th'Arabian Host beheld me thus,
Thus passive in my wrongs, they ne're had fled
From Thracian Arms, nor shunn'd the Victors Sword.

Aur.
Cease the remembrance of that glorious day,
Talk not of War, your business is with Love.

Eud.
My business is with Death?

Aur.
Oh! speak, my Lord,
You think too much on things which long are past,
I'll to my Father, tell him of our Loves.

Eud.
And beg him, wou'dst thou not to let us live,
By Heav'n, I scorn to owe my Life to one,
Who can't defend his own,
I'll give my Brother liberty or dye,
Nor wou'd I yield to live till he is free?
Alcander to Dametas—Let him know
Our danger, 'tis enough, and tell his Friends
That if we want their aid, they be prepar'd
Ex. Alc.
Come, my Aurelia! See, my Fury's o're,
And I am gentle now as Lovers dreams.

Aur.
With you indeed 'tis but a dream to love,
Which waking, you forget, or blush to own.
Off—Off—I dare not gaze, for never man
Could look so much like truth, and be so false.

Eud.
Oh why this language, to my ear unknown;
By thee too left, I'm wretched then indeed.
Come—While this minute is our own, and whose
The next shall be, or where we next shall meet,
Is only known to Fate. While this is ours,
Come—Let us spend it like the rest in love.

Aur.
That word from thee's like sounds of empty air.
Love always best is in obedience seen.
Had I been dear to thee, thou ne're hadst thought
Of War, nor mention'd it against my Will,
And who's this Foe with whom thou wou'd'st contend
The Father of thy Wife,
Thy Emp'ror and thy Guest.
From thee by Guards and Troops of Slaves secur'd,
And what wou'd'st thou oppose to this, a band
Of Village Heroes arm'd with Crooks and Staves.
Wer't thou in Thrace, thy Armies on their march
Led on by thee and Greece, the destin'd Prize.
Dost think thy Feudatory Realm, a Match
For the great Empire of the world.
Had I been dear to thee, as thou hast sworn,
Thou wou'd'st not to offend me act like one
Whom Reason has forsook.

Eud.
Was I in Thrace, my Armies on their march,
And the great Empire of the world the Prize,
Thus govern'd, I should think of Philip's Son,
Who with a chosen few subdu'd the East,
And made the proud Euphrates flow with Blood.
But in this peaceful Region, where I see
A Prize much fairer than the subject World,
What wou'd I not?

Aur.
Thy Eyes speak what thou wou'd'st, and they are truth,
They force belief beyond a thousand Oaths.
We wander in the dark, misled by fear;
For was the secret known, thy self wou'd first
My Fathers Vengeance feel, if Vengeance still
Is in his breast reserv'd; of him inform'd.
For what Adrastus suffers, you may then;
Or arm, or sue for Peace, as we resolve.

Eud.
We all dispute in vain with what we love.
I'll to Arcadius, shew him how this deed
VVill ever be injurious to his Fame.
Thou to Phylante, and forget thy griefs,
To lessen hers, who now abounds in woe.
These dangers cannot long our Loves molest,
For death or pardon soon must bring us rest.

Ex. Omnes.